


The Star to My Wandering Ship (Peeta's POV)

by titania522



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Christmas fic, Gen, One-Shot, Poetry, Shakespeare, everlark, everlark fanfiction, good again, good again universe, holiday fic, titania522, when bad is the worst thing you've ever seen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:44:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titania522/pseuds/titania522
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:</p><p>Outtake Good Again Universe.  Best read after reading When "Bad" is the Worst Thing You've Ever Seen" but it is not necessary to understand this outtake</p><p>The prompt is by Prisspanem based on Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare. 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds / admit impediments…”</p><p>Peeta’s worst fears are realized when he hurts Katniss during a flashback.  Can he come to terms with his traumas, his guilt and what it means to be a danger to the person he loves the most?  Post-Mockingjay.</p><p>Written for the AO3 Hunger Games Holiday Fic Exchange</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Star to My Wandering Ship (Peeta's POV)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prisspanem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisspanem/gifts).



> This was intended as a submission for the AO3 Holiday Fic Exchange (I misread the instructions and thought I had to write three fics.) Therefore, it is written specifically to a prompt provided by Prisspanem based on Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare. Forgive my indulgence but I do not apologize for putting Shakespeare in the middle of post-revolutionary Panem. This is best read after When "Bad is The Worst Thing You've Ever Seen" as it is a companion piece but you will understand it just fine even if you don't.
> 
> Thank you , Prisspanem, for the wonderful prompts!

**SONNET 116**

 

**_Let me not to the marriage of true minds_ **

**_Admit impediments. Love is not love_ **

**_Which alters when it alteration finds,_ **

**_Or bends with the remover to remove:_ **

**_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_ **

**_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_ **

**_It is the star to every wandering bark,_ **

**_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._ **

**_Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_ **

**_Within his bending sickle's compass come:_ **

**_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_ **

**_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._ **

**_If this be error and upon me proved,_ **

**_I never writ, nor no man ever loved._ **

  


**_W. Shakespeare_ **

 

**_Good Again Outtake – The Star to My Wandering Ship (Peeta’s POV)_ **

 

I watched as she surreptitiously glanced at her bruise in the hallway mirror.  The swelling had gone down and taken on a bluish-grey tint that reminded me of the color of playing marbles with which a child might play.  The bruise would fade eventually but not the bitter memory of how it came to be.  My mind pulled me to another place, an ascetic dungeon filled with the weird cries of suffering that even now I could not always shut out from my ears.  I’m intimately acquainted with bruises; bear a strange relationship with blood and breaking skin.  Pain and I were intimates, greeting each other in the most obscure places, like unwilling friends who are forced into false politeness.

But I did not want to renew its acquaintance here, on Katniss’ skin.  It is unbearable wherever it chooses to reveal itself but certainly, not on the alternately smooth and puckered surfaces of her body. Worse - that I had been the one to invite the pain to stay, been responsible for hurting her roiled my deepest self-loathing.  It was all I could do to not run as far away as I could get from the evidence of my brutality.

Katniss insisted that I couldn’t be held responsible for hurting her. She absolved me, as she always did.   _“You didn’t hurt me! It was the flashback!  I was stupid – I should have left you alone…”_ I tried to leave her for her own good – was already packed and ready to move into the flat above the bakery - but there was no way I could get past the immense hurdle of her heartbreak to leave our house.  She’d literally fallen to pieces and I had to add this to the list of ways that I’d hurt her.  And anyway, I’m a selfish beast in the end.  I’m not equipped to be without her.  Not anymore.

When I brought her in from the cold the morning after the flashback, the day after I’d hurt her, neither of us were in any condition to speak.  We were almost frostbitten from having sat under-dressed on the freezing ground and numb from too much agony.  Katniss curled herself up in a ball on the sofa, shivering from cold and fear and I hated myself even more.  She’d just come out of a depressive episode and now I’d gone and pushed her back down again, forcing her into a state of such desperation she’d had no choice but to seek out Haymitch’s help in the middle of the night.  I pulled a blanket from the closet and wrapped her in it then stoked the flames of the fireplace, carrying a brick of lead guilt in my stomach which weighed down my every movement.

I mechanically warmed hot milk and honey in the kitchen and brought two mugs back, placing one of them next to her on the table.  She stared blankly into the flames of the hearth, her haggard eyes glassy and lost.  I warred with myself – how could I comfort her when I was the reason for her condition?  And yet, how could I resist her?  I lowered my head down to hers and pressed my forehead into her temple, now warm and soothing from the heat of the fireplace.  With an agile abruptness, she twined both arms around my neck and pulled me down towards her, her face buried in the crook of my neck.  I wasn’t worthy of touching her.  But my arms had a will of their own and they were soon around her, betraying me.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you.” I moaned into her hair.

“Don’t do that again.” She hissed fiercely into my ear.

Misunderstanding her, perhaps deliberately, I responded dejectedly, “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.” This made me miserable, because I’d already proven, without any doubts, that she was not safe with me.

“That’s not what I meant.  Don’t apologize for what you can’t control. Don’t ever pack your things and try to leave like that again.”  A tremor overtook her small frame and I squeezed her tighter to me.

“Katniss…” I began my plea.

“No, Peeta.” Her voice still shook but she was gathering strength and I knew I was in for a battle.  “It doesn’t work like that.  You don’t just up and try to leave when things get bad.  That’s not what _you_ do.” She sat up from reclined position, her hands falling away from my neck.

“This is not just things getting bad! I hurt you!” I exclaimed, getting up suddenly to pace.

“Peeta, come back here.” she said.

“No, Katniss.  How can I live with the fear?  I’m so afraid I’ll lose it and then, I’ll come back to find you hurt or worse…” I trailed off, not able to even articulate the miserable alternative. “I can’t ask you to live like that.”

“That’s not your decision to make.” Katniss said, her eyes now flashing in anger.

“You have no idea how bad I can get.  You haven’t seen the worst and staying around me just puts you at risk.”

“So you are going to decide for me whether I want to put myself at ‘risk?’  Yo _u ar_ e going to decide this for _me_?” she repeated.  “Are you channeling Haymitch now?” She was on her feet now.

“I’m not trying to take away your free will or your agency…” her face darkened at this “…but you aren’t thinking about your own well-being.  I almost killed you in District 13, do you remember that?”

“How could I forget, Peeta?  I was there!  But you are not going to make decisions for me about what I want to do, what risks I can take or what I am willing to put up with.  We’ve done that enough.  Right?  Didn’t you say that we shouldn’t lie to each other or obscure things just to protect each other?”

I sighed heavily at this. “It’s not just you, Katniss.  Maybe _I_ don’t want to live that way.” I said wearily.

Katniss looked at me with a pained expression.  “So what are you trying to say?  You want to leave for your own sake?  Is it that hard to get through each day with me?” I put my hands up, trying to ward off her attack and explain myself, watching everything spiral out of control.  “Say the things like they really are!  If you don’t want to be with me, then just go!  Don’t use my safety as an excuse.”  her pain had turned to fury.  “On second thought, this is your house!  I’ll just go!”  She stomped angrily towards the door.

“Katniss, you’re misunderstanding me completely.” I couldn’t believe the direction in which things were going.  I reached out for her arm and caught it as she made for the door.  “Just listen, will you?” She tried to pull away but I didn’t release her. “You just said that we can’t just up and leave when things get bad!  I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”  She stopped struggling and looked up, her eyes still on fire but softening.  “We’ll figure something out but the only thing I know is I can’t...I can’t be without you.”  Her eyes narrowed, considering me for a moment.  “Please, let’s not fight.” I begged when suddenly her arms were around me as she gripped me to her.  I hadn’t lied, I couldn’t be without her but I was hard-pressed to figure out a way to stay without being a constant danger to her.

 

**XXXXX**

 

That night, I lay next to her, waiting for her to fall asleep.  I couldn’t rest my mind, the fear that I would somehow slip unconsciously into a flashback and hurt her kept my drooping eyes from closing completely.  When I couldn’t take it anymore, I slipped quietly out of bed and dragged myself to the guest room.  It was cold and unused, the bed without the minimal indentation, like a slab of stone without Katniss.  As I adjusted myself under the rigid, cold sheets, I felt myself drifting into an exhausted sleep. Maybe this was the compromise I was looking for – I couldn’t hurt her if I wasn’t close to her.

My body longed for sleep, as I had to wake soon to work in the bakery but no sooner had sleep overtaken me but it was penetrated by the sharp lash of her screams.  I hurtled from the bed to our bedroom to see her arms flailing around her in desperation.

 _“Peeta!!”_  She howled, a wail that reminded me of those dark moments in the disintegrating arena at the end of the Quarter Quell, when we had searched helplessly for one another.

“Hey, I’m here.  It’s okay.” I caught her arms and sat next to her, holding her to me.

She hiccupped through her tears as she tried to speak.  “It was…burning…and you weren’t here…” she sobbed into my chest.

“It’s okay.  I’m here now.” I murmured into her hair.

“But you weren’t.  You were gone.” She responded despondently.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry.  I just couldn’t sleep.” I lied.

Katniss trembled in my arms as I stroked her hair, smoothing out her knots and fears until she’d sunk back down to sleep.  I looked down at her still bruised cheek, her hair still clammy from her nightmare and clinging to the swelling and I felt the vomit come up in my throat.  I couldn’t handle the sight of it and untangled myself from her to return to the frigidness of the lonely bed.

  


**XXXXX**

  


The following nights were more of the same.  I waited until Katniss fell asleep, then slipped as quietly as my plodding leg would allow into the guest bedroom, fixated on the false hope that the doors and walls of that room would keep Katniss safe from me.  I rose early in the morning to go to the bakery and returned to my normal routine in the evening.  However, as the days passed, Katniss became more and more distant.  She seemed to have five nightmares a night, which meant I went to comfort her that many times.  It wasn’t until a week had passed and Katniss stood slouched over the stew she was cooking that I realized how dark the circles under her eyes had become.  We both began to take on the aspect of two people who were being sucked dry from the inside.

I couldn’t ignore the look of longing Katniss gave me as she settled herself into my arms that night, her hands running over my chest.  She was never much for talking and especially with regards to matters of the heart.  But she was trying to communicate with me and no matter how I felt, I couldn’t help waking up to her touch.  She pulled me down to her wordlessly and kissed me, gripping me to her as I tried to hold back.  I felt polluted, like I would taint her by my touch but she ignored my ambivalence and pushed me onto my back.

Katniss yanked her gown off, flinging it down on the bed and kissed me hungrily.  I was twice her size in height and weight and yet I did not have the strength to remove her from me.  I crushed her to me, feeling her breasts against my chest as I fumbled impatiently with my pajama pants.  She was ready for me, perhaps had been waiting for me while I wallowed in guilt night after night until she could finally catch me.  Sinking onto me, my breath came in pants as she rode me, throwing her head back in a fit of abandon that made me harden inside of her.  She gyrated on my hips in a private dance she reserved only for moments like these, her eyes closed as she moaned into the air.

It suddenly struck me how largely inconsequential I was to her at the moment.  Outside of my cock, she could have been riding anyone in this way and my irrelevance angered me.  She was taking what she needed because I had rendered myself unnecessary.  Katniss was the consummate survivor and if I continued to push her away, she would find the way to go forward and I would be the one reduced to ashes on the ground.

In the meantime, her hand was already between her legs, her delicate fingers rubbing herself with insistence as she kneaded her breasts, bringing herself to an orgasm right above me. I watched her face lose its composure as I put my hands on her hips, lifting her up and down, compensating for the limbs that had turned to jelly.  Watching her come was enough to push me over the edge and I emptied myself inside of her.  She crumbled over me like a ragdoll and I held her still trembling body in my arms, knowing that perhaps in this, I could distinguish myself.

We didn’t speak and so I stayed with her until I thought she’d fallen asleep before slipping out as quietly as I could.  I considered going to the spare bedroom to sleep again but, being restless, I went to the study downstairs to read instead.  My nerves were still on edge and it was either read and calm down or have a nightmare.  Dr. Aurelius sent us different books – some were related to our treatments, some about baking or history.  As I settled down into a chair, I pulled an ornate little book from off the shelf entitled _“A Book of Luminous Things*.”_

I hesitated  – there was not a lot of poetry taught in schools outside of nationalistic chants and song lyrics, so much of it made no sense to me.  As I read through the words, though, something about their lyrical quality, the comparisons between uncommon things drew me in and soon I was awash in a world of words I had never imagined.  The conundrum of loving a woman for whom I represented her greatest danger seemed to fall to nothing beneath the metaphors that loomed out of the page.  And yet each and every thing I read brought me back to her, whether she was a girl with a bamboo sash wiping dew from a mirror**, or rising from a bath with ebony hair, igniting a river with her body***; I saw Katniss everywhere in those poems and it weighed down my heart.

A sudden sense that my solitude had evaporated came to me, causing me to lift my eyes to the doorway where Katniss stood with arms crossed and a look of reproach.

“You need to come to bed.” She whispered fiercely.

“I will in a bit.  I’m just reading…”

She shook her head.  “No.  Now.  I’m tired of this.   You need to come to bed and you need to stay in bed like you used to.”

“Katniss, I don’t trust myself.” I said, barely able to bring myself to look at her.

Her eyes flashed dangerously at me.  “Fine.  If you insist on acting like this, I’m not going to beg you.” She turned on her heel and stalked off.

If I had been anything other than a coward, I would have gotten up and gone after her.  As it was, I sat pathetically in the chair, waiting for the sun to rise again.   

  


**XXXXX**

  


I woke up with muscle cramps where I’d fallen asleep in the armchair, the poetry book sprawled out on the ground.  I rubbed the sleep from my face and bent to pick it up, turning it over absently when I heard a knock at the door.  Forcing myself to my feet, I walked groggily to find Haymitch standing outside.

“Hey.” I muttered, stepping aside in a silent invitation to follow me.

“What’s on the breakfast menu?” he asked, looking curiously around the kitchen.

I shrugged, setting water to boil on the stove for tea.

“It’s every man for himself this morning.” came Katniss’ voice from the pantry.  When she pulled her head out, she had a full bag of supplies, her bow and arrows slung over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” I asked, feeling awkward after the events of last night.

“Hunting.” she said, her face set in stone.  She nodded in Haymitch’s direction as she headed out the door without another word.  Haymitch raised an eyebrow in askance.

“It’s colder in here than it is outside.” He commented as he sat down at the table.

“It’s nothing.” I said but I gave away my unhappiness when I slammed the teapot back down on the stove.

“Nothing?  Than why the hell do the two of you look like death warmed over?” he asked, scratching his belly absentmindedly.

I felt a heavy mood  falling over me. “We aren’t sleeping much, I suppose.” I mumbled.

Haymitch eyed me carefully.  “Wouldn’t have anything to do with your episode the other night, would it?”

I chuckled ruefully.  “A little, maybe.” I cast a glance over at Katniss’ empty place at the table, and felt a hollow remorse blossoming in my belly.  I became lost in vague thoughts of Katniss and I on a normal Sunday morning without all the strangeness of the last few days.  A stray piece of bread landing on the side of my head roused me from my ruminations.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “Don’t play with your food!"

Haymitch chuckled at this.  “Then focus when I’m talking to you.  I thought you guys had smoothed things over.  You’re still living here.” He took a swig from his flask when he said this.

“She’s not safe around me.  That’s the problem.  But I can’t leave.  I can’t…function…without her.” I took a deep breath.  “So, I’ve been sleeping in the guest room.” I confessed.

Haymitch nodded at this. “Not working out for you, is it?” he said.

“No, not really.  Not for either of us.”

“So just stop.  It doesn’t make sense to make the both of you suffer.  And you’re lousy company when you don’t sleep.” He groused.

“You don’t understand.  I could hurt her.”

“Actually, I do understand. But if she is willing to work with you, it is pretty selfish to take it upon yourself to create a situation that makes the both of you so unhappy.”

I was taken aback.  “Selfish?  I’m trying to stay away from her for her own good.  That’s not selfish!” I retorted.

“You think you’re staying away from her for her own good.  But you’re really staying away from her for _your_ own good, because looking at her makes you feel guilty and you don’t like the feeling.  And that has nothing to do with Katniss so yeah, you’re being selfish.”  Haymitch threw back his flask again and I was overwhelmed with the urge to make it a permanent part of his anatomy.

“Don’t go turning this around on me.  I don’t want to wake up and find Katniss dead!” I exclaimed in a fury.

“Hey, if you ask to hear my opinion, don’t get bent out of shape when I tell you what I think.  I don’t specialize in telling people what they want to hear.” he replied, chuckling darkly to himself.  “You can’t always be the good guy, _Saint Peeta_.”

I was so angry, I stood up suddenly from the chair, unable to remain still any longer. “You don’t understand a thing!” I spat as I stomped towards the coat rack. Haymitch registered astonishment at my abrupt manner.

“I’m going for a walk.”  I said, grabbing my scarf and coat, barely buttoning it up as I walked out the door.  “The kitchen is officially closed.” I growled as I slammed the door behind me.

 

**XXXXX**

 

I marched miserably to the edge of the woods, Haymitch’s words hammering inside my head, bludgeoning my well-constructed rationalizations until I was in the middle of a copse of woods, not remembering exactly how I’d gotten here.  I looked over my shoulder to see a hint of the decrepit fence and felt a sense of relief that, on top of being a complete ass, I wouldn’t have to add being lost in a winter forest to the list of my failures.

Because deep down, I knew Haymitch was right.

I thought I was protecting Katniss and instead what I was doing was making both of us miserable.  And this aspect of me, this self-pitying egoism, made me hate myself even more.   I could call Dr. Aurelius but I already knew that he would likely say the same to me, only with bigger words.  My head began to pound and for once, I didn’t fight the fury that the tracker-jacker venom was causing to rear up inside of me.  Because I was angry.  In fact, I was overwhelmed by a rage so bleak, it caused me to shake violently.  We’d gone through so much, had so much taken away from us and there was still this:  her nightmares;  my flashbacks.  I suddenly wanted to scream out at the unfairness of it.

I grabbed a thick branch that had fallen to the ground and furiously smashed it against a tree.  When this did not suffice, I began ripping at the vegetation around me, taking the rocks that I found and launching them into the frozen woods. My fragmented mind imagined a host of targets parading in front of me – President Snow, the Peacekeepers who dragged me out of my cell each night, those oblivious Capitol citizens who gorged themselves for decades on the flesh of children.  I was covered in flying snow and dried leaves but I still raged on, destroying the proxies of my hatred until finally, Katniss’ image floated before my eyes and I wanted, truly desired in that distorted part of myself, to hurt her.  It was then that my fury dissipated like water rushing down a drain.

 _Not her._ I screamed, maybe in my mind, maybe into the woods _.  Never again._

I was panting now, all my energy spent.  I took in the destroyed bushes, crushed tree limbs and leaves ground into the now slushy dirt.  I was exhausted and emptied out but I’d gotten nowhere.  I’d always be an unknown, a sleeping switch that could spark at any moment but there was nothing I could do about it because I would always be this way and all I could do was be vigilant and hope that Katniss really understood what she was in for.

In the middle of my thoughts, I heard my name being called.  I was sure that the tracker-jacker venom was working its black magic on my hearing when I heard my name again.

“Peeta?”

I looked up from my destructive handy work and saw Katniss emerging from amongst the trees staring at me in shock.  At least I had not made up the sound of her calling my name.  I was momentarily unable to speak, still somewhat lost in the after-effects of my eruption.  

“I could hear you ten miles away.” She said as she took in the apocalyptic scene.  “What is this?” she spread her hands, taking in the mess I’d made.

I roused all of my powers of speech. “I was punching my way towards clarity.  You should try it sometime.  It’s very cathartic.” I quipped unhappily.

Katniss still stared at me as if I were certifiable.

I looked around me, at the trees, the endless sky, truly absorbing my environment.  It was a perfect, crisp winter day, fluffy snow clouds rolling slowly across the sky. I took a deep breath before turning towards Katniss.  “I’m sorry...sorry for everything.”

Katniss looked at me warily, as if preparing for a blow. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I…just everything.  For being messed up and for hurting you…”

“I told you, you didn’t do it on purpose…”

“Stop.  Katniss.  Just listen, will you?” I interrupted her.  She nodded, her breath escaping in bursts of fog from her nose.

“I’m sorry for this week.  I swear, I wasn’t purposely trying to make either of us suffer.  I kept trying to talk myself into leaving, that I should just disappear so that I wouldn’t hurt you anymore…” her sharp intake of breath spurred me forward, “…but I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t.  Katniss, I’m selfish on every level.  I stayed away from you because I was too guilty about hurting you but I hurt you anyway, didn’t I?”  She nodded sadly, wrestling with her own emotions.  “If I had been a truly decent human being, I’d have gone to live over the bakery so that I could never put a hand on you again.”

Katniss shook her head as I lapsed into a momentary silence, something moving within me, a truth unfolding as I spoke it.

“People have always told me how good I am.  Good and virtuous and shit, Katniss, I’m not.  I’m selfish and greedy and I can hurt you.  See, the way I see things, love doesn’t change when there are obstacles, it doesn’t disappear because the person you love is out of your reach.  Even the unworthiest people love someone! It’s like a fixed point and all the things that happen, all of the let-downs and disappointments don’t change it.  I love you even if I’m no good for you…”  Katniss tried to interject but I put my hand up to her. “No, you’re not going to persuade me that a person conditioned to kill another person can possibly be any good for that person. But I’m fucked Katniss.”   

I put my hands on my hips, trying to gulp air to still my racing heart.  “So I have this problem.  I want to keep you safe from everything, from me if need be.  But I can’t without depriving myself of you.  Even though I could fly into a rage tomorrow and really hurt you, I can’t go anywhere. I can’t leave.  The way I feel doesn’t change because I’m the worst case scenario for you and I have no solution.”

Katniss’ face had taken on an expression of pity and pain but I didn’t know any other way to make her see the complete absurdity of my position. She stepped carefully over the broken debris to get closer to me and began picking the shreds of wood and bark from my hair.

“Peeta, I don’t have a solution either.   I think there isn’t anything _to_ solve.  We can talk to Dr. Aurelius and see if he has any ideas about your more violent flashbacks and what I should do but otherwise, this is it.  We are both very damaged people but at least we can be damaged together.  Some people don’t have anybody.” She smiled a sweet, sad smile.  “But you can’t leave.  You’re my north star and I’d be lost without you.”

I was breathless – from the cold, from relief that she understood me and as always, the gift of her love.  I pulled her to me and held her until the meandering cold wind from the tree tops penetrated past my coat.  If I was cold, surely Katniss was frozen.

“Let’s go home.” I said, my teeth chattering.  “I might owe Haymitch an apology."

Katniss pulled back to look at him. “Really?   I’m impressed! Usually, I’m the rude one.”

“Yeah, I know but he was the one who pointed out that I was being a selfish ass and I just took it badly.  It’s not his fault.”

She gave me a hard look.  “Stop apologizing! I don’t want to hear anymore about you being guilty.  The Capitol did this to you, to us.  You would never intentionally hurt anyone.” She took my head in both her hands. “Whether you believe it or not, you really are too good to do that.”

I simply nodded at this when we resumed our walk home.  As we braced ourselves against the cold wind, I wound my arm around Katniss’ shoulder, feeling better than I had all week.

  


XXXXX

  


Haymitch didn’t make my apology very easy.  He grunted several times and went on and on about how he had to inconvenience himself by preparing his own breakfast, in our house of course.  He only stopped his complaints when I presented him with a fresh tray of tarts and a loaf of the fragrant berry bread he liked so much.

As the cold days wore on, I was relieved when Sunday came along as I was tired of trudging through the snowdrifts every morning to get to the bakery.  Some days, we just stayed in the small flat but I preferred to be home whenever possible. This particular Sunday, Haymitch was fishing for a dinner invitation but I had other plans for Katniss and me.

“We have some things we need to work on for the bakery.” I gave him as an excuse.

“Bakery, my ass.  You guys are worse than wild rabbits.” he groused in irritation.

I ignored him and went home to put my plan in action.

  


**XXXXX**

  


“Don’t bump into the table.” I said as I pulled a blindfolded Katniss along the corridor.  I’d had to lock up the living room otherwise, she would have ruined her own surprise.

“What are you up to?” she said between bouts of nervous laughter.

“Come on.  I hope you like it.” I said as I opened the door carefully and led her inside.  

I positioned her before the blazing fireplace and removed the makeshift blindfold.  I had an idea for it but simply folded it and placed it in my pocket.   _Another time._ I thought wickedly to myself.

When Katniss opened her eyes, she let out a gasp.  “Peeta!”

Every surface of the room was covered in candles, creating a warm glow against the bitter wind whipping the trees outside the frosted window.  A strategically placed compliment and Effie had given up the secrets of her precious candles, including where to order them and which variety were least likely to be smoky and overpowering.  Before the fireplace was thick bedding that I’d dragged down from the guest room, a choice I admit was rather vindictive towards what I perceived was an inhospitable space.  A vat of thick hot chocolate on a small warmer near the table burbled, releasing its heady sweet scent into the air .  Soft, instrumental music played on the rarely used music player so when Katniss overcame her shock, I pulled her to me and rocked slowly with her to the music.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Katniss said wryly, leaning against me as she swayed.

“Something like that.” I chuckled into her hair.  “But first, I want to read to you.”

She pulled her head back in surprise.  “Really?  You pervert!” she laughed.

“A regular creep.” I whispered as I kissed her neck, satisfied when I felt her shiver from the contact.

We danced for a while longer while the glow from the candles and the warm fire combined to make us feel as molten as the warm chocolate.  I led her wordlessly to the pile of pillows and blankets where we drank a bit of the warm chocolate before she positioned her head on my lap.  I opened up what had lately become my favorite book, smoothing her hair with one hand as I read with the other.  I was nervous - I hoped she wouldn’t find it trite for me to read to her.  Like me, not everything made sense - the poem was so very old:

  


_Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

_Admit impediments. Love is not love_

_Which alters when it alteration finds,_

_Or bends with the remover to remove:_

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wandering bark,_

_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._

_Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_

_Within his bending sickle's compass come:_

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

_If this be error and upon me proved,_

_I never writ, nor no man ever loved._

  


Katniss was staring at me enraptured.  “I could listen to you all day.” she whispered.  “You said something like that in the woods.”

“You really understood this poem that quickly? I had to read it at least eight times before I got it.”  I said in astonishment.

“Not every word.  But it makes sense to me.” She pulled the poem over to her, scanning it for a moment, running her fingers under each line.  “There’s no reason why two like-minded people should not be married.  Love doesn’t change when circumstances change, or when the person you love is gone.  No.  It’s like a fixed point that sees storms but doesn’t waver.  Love is the star for every wandering…” she paused with a twinkle in her eye, “...ship.   It has great value though it can be measured.  Love is not at the mercy of time though physical beauty is its victim.  Love doesn’t change with hours or weeks but lasts to the end of time.  If I am wrong about these thoughts, then I recant everything I’ve written and no one has ever really loved.” she smiled in satisfaction.

“You’re tricking me.  You’ve seen this before!” I accused, astounded by her understanding.

“Why does it surprise you that I would understand that?  Do you think I’m dumb?” she accused in a dangerous tone.

“No, I just, I didn’t think you really, well, I thought this might be a little too fluffy for you.” I stuttered.

Katniss made an impatient face. “My father sung all kinds of songs to us.  I’m out of practice but I can figure out a poem.  Plus all the harder words are explained at the bottom.”  

I was in awe of her yet again.  “You always find new ways to amaze me.”

She became serious.  “Think what you would have missed if you’d have gone away.  You’d just be handing another victory over to the Capitol. We can’t have that.  Not anymore.”

“I won’t ever go away.  I promise.” I said, my voice becoming thick with emotion.  “This poem made me think of us.  How we should not put impediments on what we feel.”

I bent to kiss her but she pulled back.  “Read one more.”  she fairly purred.  “You’re so sexy when you read to me.”

I pulled her onto my lap and held the book up for the last poem.

  


_You are such a good cook._

_I am such a good cook._

_If we get involved_

_we’ll both get fat._

_Then nobody else will have us._

_We’ll be stuck,two_

_mounds of wet dough_

_baking high and fine_

_in the bed’s slow oven.****_

  


Katniss threw her head back in heady laughter, a sound more beautiful than the soft melody playing in the background.  “No, that’s it!  That’s us!”  She crawled up over me, pushing the book aside, giving me a deep kiss that tasted of melted chocolate.  

“You like that one the best, don’t you.” I teased, marveling at how she could set me alight with the smallest gesture.  “You are so profound.”

“That I am.” she kissed me again, this time more earnestly.  “Show me how our little nest works because right now, I want to bake high and fine with you.”

We both laughed as she dragged me down onto the piles of soft, warm blankets.

  
  


**XXXXX**

  
  


***A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry by Czeslaw Milosz**

  


****“Her nightgown has a bamboo sash.**

**She wipes the dew off her mirror.”**

  


**_from Getting Up In Winter by Emperor Ch’ien-Wen of Liang_ **

  


*****“That girl with the golden necklace**

**& ivory breasts**

**whose body ignited the river:**

**she who rose like the moon**

**from her bathing &**

**brushed back the ebony hair**

**that fell to her waist”**

  


**_from What Chord Did She Pluck by Steve Kowit_ **

  


**Both poems found in _A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry by Czeslaw Milosz_**

  


****** _Sentimental Poem_ by Marge Pierce**


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